Down the Long Road
by Blood Russian
Summary: She looked Dallas dead in the eye,"Dallas, even if I was blind, desperate, and out of my mind begging for it on the dry side of Tulsa, I still wouldn't screw you." A new trouble was beginning to stir on the wild side of Tulsa, things were going to change.
1. Cherry Mustangs and Frying Pans

**Down the Long Road**

_**Chapter One: Cherry Mustangs and Frying Pans**_

She stood still watching the movers bring furniture into the bright yellow house, wishing one of them would drop her father's black antique table and at least crack the ugly old thing. The breeze blew past her hair and tickled her chin as she kicked at the payment, scuffing her new boots. She sighed knowing that if her father saw the damaged he'd have a fit. She began walking down the sidewalk just to get away from all the brightly colored houses and neat clean cut grass and white picket fences, it was all giving her a headache. Everything was an eyesore in this neighborhood; she wished she could go back to the dirty streets of New York and live her old life again, before her mother died, before her father was a full time workaholic, before her oldest brother was shipped off to fight in the growing Vietnam War and before the brother she once looked up to became a struggling addict of drugs and alcohol. Back when everything seemed to work out on its own.

Charlotte pulled out a pack of Camels, crossed the street and dodged a racing Cherry Red Ford mustang all in one go. The car hadn't even stopped or slowed down as it sped down the road.

"Assholes," She muttered with a cigarette in her mouth cupping her hand around it to block the wind so she could get a light. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled and closed her eyes to relax, her nerves were beginning to calm from the withdrawal. Her eyes wandered the street, a basic survival skill she had picked up from her old group of friends, being careless got you slaughtered from head to toe and hung from a street lamp for everyone to see. Nowhere was safe, sometimes not even in your own territory. After the first couple of blocks the bright pretty houses seemed to dull down as she walked down the street, houses seemed to lose their color and the freshly cut grass began to yellow and brown all in patches, no more picket fences.

Puffing out little rings with her mouth just for fun, the girl stopped as wind and the smell of smoke swirled around her whipping her hair in her face, leaving small stings in place of where they hit her cheeks. Tires screeched to a halt and as the sixteen year old began crossing the last road to the middle class a familiar Cherry Red mustang skidded to a stop in front of her. A handsome boy leaned out from the passenger side window, his black hair falling onto his forehead as he leered out at her and somehow managed, if possible, to give a bad wink.

"Hey, Blondie," The boy called out to her as he got out of the car, leaving the door open, "Hey, I was talking to you, Blondie."

"Piss off, Jock." She told him gruffly brushing past him; she didn't get far before he was pulling her back by her left arm, making her fall hard against the hood of the car. She winced at the impact, her half smoked cigarette falling from her mouth to the ground, burning the hem of her black t-shirt.

"Hey, don't ignore me, Blondie. I was speaking to you," she could smell the whiskey on the teenagers' breath, her nose scrunching upward in disgust, a churning feeling in her gut. The other boy got out of the driver's seat blocking the other side of her only escape. "You know, I saw you at the old Rant's house, so I know you live there. But one thing I don't get is why you're walking towards the hoods homes; don't you know the greasers live there?"

Blondie, as she was so affectingly nicknamed curled her upper lip and glared at him through partially slit eyes, staring at him in disgust.

"You know, you have such a pretty face, you're even prettier than my girl, Cherry. And she's supposed to be the best looker around." He laughed and picked up her chin between his fingers, she jerked away roughly not wanting to be touched by the creep. "Hey, look, Blondie has some red in her hair. Maybe instead of Blondie we should call you Strawberry, because you're just so sweet and delicate, aren't you?"

"Real original, there. Never heard that one before." She spat at him, sending a wad of spit to his left cheek. "You're revolting, now get hell off me before I break that pencil straight nose of yours, Soc."

His upper lip curled upper and when he closed his eyes his nostrils flared in anger.

"You little bitch, how dare you!" He yelled at her, smacking her across the face. "You know what? Maybe you aren't high class and you just act like it, maybe your just some little bitch greaser."

The Soc reached into his back pocket and slowly, almost tauntingly, pulled out a pocket knife. He flipped it open to reveal seven inches of a sharp metal blade, he waved it back and forth between her face making a clicking sound with his tongue.

"Maybe you need to be taught a little lesson," He drawled out, sliding the blade up and down her top making a shiver run up her back as the cool metal touched the bottom of her stomach.

Things had gone way too far, her stomach began churning again. A swirling anger was making its way from her gut to her throat as she screamed out the frustration and kicked the jock in the stomach sending him flying backwards onto his butt. The other boy swung at her, his knuckle grazing her cheek before she grabbed his wrist and arm and swung him down onto the road.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Soc, but I'm not so sweet and innocent." She growled at him as he ran flying towards her. She pulled back her right hook and hit him right in his freckled nose; a satisfying crunch could be heard and blood began gushing from his now bent nose.

"You, you bitch!" He yelled at her, grabbing his nose in one hand and his blade in the other.

"Don't you have any better comebacks?"

She ran around the car and began running down the street looking behind her to see the boys scrambling to get back in the car and chase after her. The jocks last demand still ringing through her ears as she ran, "Get that greaser!"

Her blood was pumping as the car engine rumbled and the tires screeched against the pavement. Her hair smacked at her face and caught in her mouth as she ran but that was nothing more than a second thought to her now. She turned into the next street on her right where a little further down she could see the lights of a living room and the distance shadows of something moving in front of the window. Darkness covered the streets, leaving only a few dim lamp post light the surrounding area. The light seeping from the window was her only hope as she heard the engine growing closer and the swerve of tires turning. She was almost there, the thought running through her head over and over again as the light got brighter and the shadows more distinctive.

The tip of her shoe managed to catch the crack in the jagged road and she came crashing down onto to cold rough pavement, scraping her hands and chin. She winced and cursed loudly as she pushed herself up, the gravel digging into the already burning cuts. She ran faster growing less observant of her surroundings and jumped up on the lawn, her boots digging into the dirt and grass. She reached the front door and banged on it repeatedly, yelling for assistance. In a panic knowing the car was just down the street she grabbed the doorknob hoping it would open and to her luck, it did. She swung the door open and slammed it shut pushing her back against it and closing her eyes for a second to catch her breath before she heard a loud screech and someone saying 'Gotcha, Dally!' before she was hit across the head with a cold round metal object, that suspiciously felt like a small frying pan before she blacked out.


	2. Thanks for the Welt and Ride Home

**By the way this starts a few weeks after Johnny gets attacked by the Socs. So if I did my calculations right, this storyline starts off somewhere in mid April. Enjoy. **

* * *

><p><strong>Down the Long Road<strong>

_**Chapter Two: Thanks for the Welt and Ride Home**_

"She ain't dead, is she?" Two-Bit asked from the back side of the couch, hovering over the girl who was now sporting a brand new welt on the right side of her face. His normally grinning face filled will worry over the stranger.

"No," Darry told him simply, "you just knocked her out."

"Whatcha you figure she was running from?" Ponyboy asked from the middle of Soda and Darry, leaning closer to get a look at the girl.

"I'd say Socs', she looks a bit like a greaser." Soda told him, moving from his spot to pick up the wash cloth and bottle of peroxide from the table. After dabbing the old torn cloth with the liquid, he handed it over to Darry who went on doctoring up the cuts and scrapes underneath her chin.

The girl flinched and twitched in her unconscious state, but didn't wake up from the burning sensations bubbling up on her chin. They watched as she groaned and arched her back slightly in sudden pain as Darry applied the rag to her palms. Darry looked over the girl some more, checking her clothing for any tears or rips that could lead to another wound.

"There was a mustang outside, maybe she was running from that." Johnny murmured from the end of the couch, he sat on the arm staring at the blonde. His dark eyes seemed sunken in from the dark circles around them, a look of compassion for the poor girl as he remembered the attack only a few weeks ago.

"She looks to neat, for a greaser," Two-Bit was cut off before he could finish by the sudden groan coming from the girls' mouth.

One of her hands swatted at the light shining in her eyes, her fingers spread wide trying to get as much coverage as possible. She tried lifting herself up with her other hand, her eye lids blinking rapidly to adjust to the lighting of the room. She stilled when Darry clasped his hand on her shoulder, her eyes meeting Johnny's when she looked back up. They stared at each other for a short lived moment before she scooted herself backwards, her lower back bumping into the armrest. She looked around the room, a living area, she guessed. She took in the gangs faces, her sea-green eyes wide in shock and a tinge of fear. The last thing she could remember was the Cherry Red Mustang and beating on a front door.

"It's alright," A strong and rather rough voice came from the blondes side. She craned her head to the right and was met with a pair of icy blue-green eyes that made her insides want to curl up. She looked him over; he looked like a true greaser. Besides the hair anyway, his dark hair flipped and kicked out on his forehead, she already knew it gave him the ability to make any girl melt inside. "What's your name?"

She stared at him for a moment, her head was reeling. The simple question was not helping with the bright lights and pounding of hammers in her head.

"…Charlotte." Her voice cracked from the dryness in her throat. She swallowed the bit of saliva in her mouth in attempt to moisten her throat.

The boy on her left jumped over the back and landed in the middle of the couch. He was squatting over her legs, his arms shooting out and grabbing the sides of her shoulders, a grin on his face. "Well, Charlotte, sorry 'bout that blow to the head. I'm pretty sure it didn't cause any major damage, not that it would matter. You have such a pretty head anyway. The names Two-Bit by the way." He talked so fast Char couldn't but help to stare at the boy, one thing crossing her mind. Was he drunk? His gray eyes shined with mirth as he made another crack at her, his rusty hair falling into his eyes as the grease loosened when he shook his head back. A small confused smile found its way and she let out a nervous chuckle, trying to scoot a little further back.

Two large hands grabbed Two-Bits from under his armpits and pulled him back to the ground, causing him to wobble and fall on his butt. "Hey!"

"Don't squash her, Two-Bit. I don't think you can afford to have a harassment charge on you." Darry told him a humorous smile on his handsome face. "Are you alright?"

Charlotte rubbed at the bruising side of her face wincing, "Yeah, besides the lump forming on my face, I'll be fine." She laughed shrugging her shoulder, waving her hand back and forth, "No sweat. May I ask your name?"

Darry watched her as she slowly pulled herself up, making sure she wasn't going to hurt herself by falling over. "Darrel Curtis. Darry it you'd like."

Glancing up she remembered of the rest of the teens in the room again, a pleasant smile sprang across her face. "I'm sorry; I didn't quite catch your names, did I?" The boys were a little surprised at her sudden burst of cheerfulness but always quick to recover Soda flopped down on the seat next to her and reached out a hand.

"Hiya," the boy next her had dark golden hair, his charming face held two dark brown eyes that seemed to dance around in happiness. "I'm Sodapop, everyone call me Soda, though. I'm Darry's brother and this here is our little brother Ponyboy. That there is Johnny and of course you already know our very own town idiot, on the floor over there." Charlotte grinned, this was too good. Two-Bit tackled Soda flipping both of them of the back off the couch and Char bumping into Johnny, sending them flying of the couch also.

Two moans were heard from the side of the ground. Charlotte was leaning halfway on top of Johnny, her still fresh wounds burning. Rolling over she blew on her palms quickly, why did the human body have to have so many nerve endings? Looking over she met Johnny's wide freighted eyes. She stopped herself from flinching, wanting to look away from the pain in his dark eyes. A curious thought ran through her head on how he got the scars and bruises along his face and how that cold sacred puppy dog look got in his eyes. She gave him a comforting smile, got to her knees and held a slightly shaking hand out to him.

"Looks like I'm a walking disaster, huh?" She asked him, still waiting for him to take her hand. Slowly Johnny reached out his hand and grasped hers tightly; she carefully pulled him up with her to their feet. Ponyboy grasped Johnny on the shoulder lightly getting him to meet his eyes.

"You 'right Johnnycake?" Ponyboy asked, the worry clear in his eyes. Johnny murmured a quick and nearly silent 'yea'.

Two-Bit and Soda were still on the floor laughing as they rolled around, Two-Bit was trapped in a headlock. Darry came over to them a grin covering his face as he separated them from their antics. "Maybe I should get you home?" He asked.

"Yeah, that would be great." She told him smiling. Darry grabbed a jacket off the recliner and tossed the keys up in the air catching them again. Charlotte slowly followed behind him, turning her head to watch the occupants of the room, before stopping at the door and turning all the way to them. "Um, it was nice meeting you. I mean that, it was." She couldn't help laughing with a humorous smile. "And Johnny, sorry for falling on you, hope I didn't squash you."

Charlotte watched Darry drive away back down the road towards his home from the foreign front yard of her new home. She leaned on the fences gate, her head tilted to the left staring down at the vanishing headlights before turning the street. Sighing, she slowly turned around facing the eyesore of a new home. Who paints a house mustered yellow, anyway? Charlotte walked up to the dark brown wooden steps begrudgingly; her father was going to kill her. Swinging open the heavy door she called out in false merriment.

"Father, I'm home! Did ya miss me?"

"Charlotte, where the hell have you been?" Her father's harsh voice rang from the living room, loud footsteps falling after. Char stood there with a tight smile as her father rounded in front of her, his face red with anger and his right eye twitching dramatically.

"Why, nowhere important dad. No need to get so worked up, I wouldn't want you worrying 'bout me all night." She told him with a sarcastic smile on her face, her green eyes tempted to roll. She began to make her way past him but a hand gripped her forearm tightly.

Her father's dull brown eyes glared down at her while his nostrils flared. "Oh no, you're not going anywhere."

Ah, home sweet home.


	3. Personal Space, Please

**Down the Long Road**

_**Chapter Three: Personal Space, Please**_

A headache was being born deep in the back of her head. She could feel the rush of blood pulsing, the throbbing maximizing by the second as though it was about to explode. She buried her head into the soft comforts of the light yellow pillowcase. The smell of its flowery detergent made her head spin, her eyes shot open as she arched her back into the air, the cotton cover slipping from her waist to the cold wooden floor. She stayed there for a moment just staring at creamer colored wall before slowly sliding her legs off the bed, falling to her knees. She stood all too quickly, her back making an awful cracking sound, her toes spread wide apart as she stretched her legs out before dragging herself to the eggshell dresser.

She looked up through tired eyes and tangled strands of hair falling into her face. She could see the deep blue and purple bruise spreading from just above her temple and to her cheekbone; it was going to be there for a while by the looks of it. Her fingers stumbled lazily over the small bottles and other cosmetics she found useless, the only person who wanted her to have them was her father, hoping that she would be a 'better child' if she had them. She stared down at the bottle she held in her hand the bold letters claiming to hide unwanted blemishes. It was useless; she tossed the never been opened bottle back on the dresser top before walking to the bathroom down the hall.

The floor boards creaked from the added weight and she could hear the low soft buzzes of voices coming from the television set downstairs. The clinking of cups and silverware clattered in the sink before the static radio channels settled onto some unintelligible song. The bright light from the bathroom flooded the hallways and shined into Charlotte's eyes. Her hand flew to her face just to cover her eyes, the headache in the back of her head forming at an even faster rate. The throbbing continued to surge even as her eyes finally adjusted to the obscene light above her. She edged slowly into the bathroom her hand turning the knobs of the sink for cold water, sucking in a breath she gathered the chilly water in her hands and flung onto her face. The water droplets dripped down her brow and chin at a wickedly slow pace. Charlotte gasped loudly her eyes wide and her foggy mind now fully awake. Her hands shook as she reached for the light blue towel on the counter to dry her face with.

The closer she got to the kitchen down stairs the aroma of crispy bacon and buttered biscuits filled her senses. She licked her lips unconsciously as she neared closer to the door, the sweet smell growing even better as she leaned her head in. Her blond hair fell over her face again until she moved it from her view as she walked in and gathered a fairly large plate for herself. Her stomach growling as she got each helpful. She sat across from her brother but she avoided his eyes and took an overly large bite of eggs, most of it falling off the fork and back onto her plate as they neared her mouth. She swallowed dryly, reaching for her glass of O.J. and sipping it at a quick pace.

"What happened to your face, sister?" The low soft rumble of her brothers' voice spoke in the nice quiet silence. She hated the charade he put on. Hated how he would pretend to be proper and prim just to cover up what he was really hiding.

Setting down her glass Charlotte swallowed one last time before meeting her brother's curious gaze. "Nothing really, just a small mishap with a frying pan," She told him calmly and relaxed, she looked up at him over folded fingers, "Nothing really, _brother._"

He didn't say anything in reply at first; the only thing to be heard was low soft tone of a woman singing from the small radio on top of the counter.

"_Dearest,  
>though you're the nearest to my heart<br>Please don't ever  
>Ever say we'll part."<em>

"This wouldn't happen to be a result of your little argument with father would it?" The question lingered in the air and Charlotte gave him a tight, bitter smile.

"_You may be a million miles away  
>Please believe me…"<em>

"Of course not," She told him simply, "We both know our dear father is too much of a coward to actually cause physical harm and besides, he smart enough not to leave a bruise."

"Then if not by our father," A frown formed on his rugged handsome face. "Then by who, Charlotte?"

Charlotte rolled her green eyes, agitated by the current conversation. "Like you care," She spat, she shoveled another piece of bacon into her mouth, chewing slowly before licking the grease off her fingers. "I went for a walk, you know, yesterday." Her brother hummed in answer, his bold hazel- blue eyes flicked with something she could not detect. "I got jumped."

Her brother choked loudly on his water, it flew from his nose and he reached for a towel to sneeze in. "That's a new record, I believe." He laughed, it was rich and heartfelt. It was the laugh of someone who was truly enjoying themselves. That laugh did not belong to her brother. "The quickest time you got jumped was two weeks after you started ninth grade."

Her head ached again; her brother was worse than any bright light or frying pan. He seemed so wrong; it made her wonder how long it would last. She could see the red blood vessels in his eyes from the sudden with drawl; she saw everything from the slight shake in his hands to the rushed words coming from his chapped pale lips. She drew in a breath from her nose and held it there before letting it back out, the pulsing swarming again in the same spot near her new bruise away from the back of her head. He always had to be the one with the upper hand, always trying to win in the sickest ways by opening old scars. Another way he had changed.

Charlotte clenched her jaw tightly, her teeth grinding together slowly. She looked him in the eye, tilted her head to the left and gave him the sweetest smile she could muster up. "Yeah," She laughed mockingly, "What about you, thinking 'bout setting a new record _Daniel_?"

His eyes widened and a hard look passed over his face, his eyes becoming cold and distant. He knew exactly what she meant. He always did.

Charlotte sat up quickly from her seat; the chair skidding nosily across the hard tile floor underneath the table. She gathered her plate and glass setting in the sink with as much delicacy of a bull. Not sparing a second glance at her brother before sprinting up the stairs to her room, her bedroom door slamming shut loudly behind her. He heard it, she was sure of it. She flopped down on her bed, it no longer felt soft and smooth, but scratchy and frayed. Goodness, she hated guilt. It always managed to sneak its way to your heart and around your airway, squeezing till you felt true pain but she wasn't going to put up with it. She sat up, searching for the clock. Her eyes finding it hidden in the small box against her closet door, its bright red paint sticking out like a sore thumb. That's what probably kept her up most of the night, the endless _tick… tick…_echoing through her head throughout the night.

Charlotte lifted its cold mettle structure swiftly, tilting it back up right before checking the time.

_11:14 AM_

She groaned, she hated getting up so late. It left nothing to do. Charlotte swung open the closet door, the small box of other useless items sliding smoothly across the hard wood floor. Reaching out her left hand she searched through her clothes looking for the jacket she wore yesterday, spinning around she walked to the dresser pulling out a black tank top and a pair of dark wash skinnies. She pulled on her clothes, falling on the bed as she pushed up her jeans. She slipped on her black boots and fled out the door and downstairs to the front door. Charlotte leaned out into the hall, trying to see a glimpse of her brother, just to see if he was still there. Nothing was there, not even the sound of the radio or the television set. Both were turned off and the only thing she could hear was the light sound of shuffling down the hall. Sighing she left the unwelcoming house, just hoping to escape for a little while.

Charlotte walked down the drive way, her baby parked next to the curve. She stared longingly at the car; her damn rotten father had thought it fair that she lose her '_driving_ _privileges', _as he put it. So she had to walk wherever she wanted to go and just 'deal with it'. And just because she lived in New York did not mean she was use to walking everywhere, her father had cared back then. He would _never _let his _baby_ walk in those 'horrible, dirty and dangerous streets' when she went away from the 'good, well behaved' neighborhood.

It was a cool breezy day, just one of those days where everything felt perfect and that something good was going to you happen and change your life. It was one of those days that made Charlotte want to gag. Nothing was ever _good_ enough to change you forever, nothing at all. The only things that truly changed your life were the things seemed to never be able get any worse but always managed to without even lifting a finger.

Char kicked her shoe against the road, looking up every once and awhile for Socs or any other gang. She turned a different direction then she had the night before, no longer wanting to see what the neighborhoods she passed looked like in full daylight. Instead she took the busy streets leading to the rest of town, not so busy if you asked her, only a couple cars drove by. She sighed loudly to herself thing how this town was going to be such a drag. There was no exciting life around unless she could count last night but then again that had probably only been caused by raging hormones and by the smell of stale whiskey on their breath, alcohol.

Horns honked and she could hear the rumble of engines close by. Looking down the street as she turned the corner she could see the flock of girls surrounding an old DX station. Charlotte raised a single brow (a trick she picked up from an old friend back home). What were a bunch of girls doing at a greasy old DX station? Walking closer she could see a tuff of golden hair underneath the front hood of an old rusted gray 1963 Corvette, a loud and warm charming laugh rung through her ears, a laugh that made anyone want to grin like an idiot. She jogged across the empty street, joining the small crowd of girls and few guys.

"Well, ain't that a beauty?" A familiar wise-crackin' voice whistled behind her.

Charlotte turned her head slowly, sure she was going to eventually regret this one day. She was met with a wide grin, her eyes trailing up to meet a pair of bright cobalt grey ones, a small lopsided smile and left cheek dimple greeting him as they met. "Hello, Two-Bit."

His grin seem to grow wider as he shot his hand out towards her face, his opposite arm slinging around her shoulders. "Man, who knew I could create such a thing." His fingers prodded gently at the black and blue bruise. Her eye twitched. "So whatcha doin' all the way down here? Gasping in awe of Soda's good looks or were you just lookin' for moi?"

"Oh yes, I was just looking for man who hit upside the head, knocking me out, and leaving a bruise the size of Texas across the side of my face to give a big fat kiss in thanks." She told him rolling her eyes.

"Really now," He must've been playing along; there was a mischievous rise in his voice. "Does that mean I get to choose my kiss, huh?" He asked playfully nudging her in the waist.

Charlotte laughed, "Oh yeah, just tell me when."

He gripped her around the waist, spinning her around and dipping her back. "Pucker up!" Charlotte laughed as he attempted to kiss her face. She pushed him back, which only made him pull harder to her.

"Hey, stop that!" She barely managed to gasp out her words between laughs.

"Two-Bit, what the heck are you doin'?"

Two-Bit stopped momentarily to look at the new arrival, Char still hanging dipped in his arms. "Hey there, Stevie, how's it hangin'? Evie still have ya balls?"

"Why I ought to show you 'two-bits' in second." The boy, 'Stevie' growled at him, rolling up his sleeve.

"Ah, don't be so rude, Stevie. We have a new pal, meet Charlotte."

A grin passed over Steve's face. "Wait, you're tellin' me that this is the broad you knocked the shit out of last night?"

Charlotte glared at the other boy who was still currently laughing loudly. Who the hell called her a _broad?_

"Golly, Two-Bit! You'd think you fuckin' learn!"

"Oh, what are ya talkin' 'bout?" Two-Bit hooted happily, bringing the two of them back upright. "We all know how you got your ass kicked for kissin' dear old Mattie's sister."

Charlotte watched them argue, laughing and trying not to fall over when Two-Bit swung around pulling her with him. A large hand gripped her upper arm, the smooth material of her jacket bunching up. Charlotte was pulled from Two-Bit's relaxed arms and swerved swiftly into another's, looking up she met a familiar cold hard look in the deep icy blue eyes of the man in front of her.

"Well, whata we got here?" His voice was rough and smooth at the same time, his words just seemed glide out. "And what's your name, doll-face?"

Charlotte clenched her jaw, who the hell… "Sorry, I don't talk to strangers." She smiled sweetly.

A dark brow rose and Charlotte noticed Two-Bit's and his friends' argument had diminished, everyone else seemed to be staring at them.

"How 'bout I tell you mine, doll-face?" He said with a sly smirk. "The name's Dallas Winston."

Charlotte just smiled, grinding her teeth together slowly. "Well, Dallas, ever heard of personal space?"


	4. Scarlet

**Down the Long Road**

_**Chapter Four: Scarlet**_

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><p>The first bell of the morning rang loudly sending a high pitched ringing through Charlotte's ears and she felt like showing the guy who invented that horrid thing her right fist. She lightly tapped at her face, trying to get used to the foreign feeling of makeup caked on top of her cheek. Her father had seen the bruise early in the afternoon the day before, and had made sure she put the sticky liquid on her face. So now she was being forced to sit through eight hours of pain with what felt like a giant lump on her face. She walked down the school hall feeling the stares of rushing students following her movements. Christ, she hated being new. Especially when there was only two months left in the school year and classes had already started because everyone already knew who you were and began to refer to you as the 'new kid'.<p>

Charlotte looked down at the paper that held her schedule in her hands. Damn it, where the hell was her first period? She walked down the hall dragging her feet as she did so, looking at the doors for her teachers' name. The hall way had cleared, so it wasn't much of a challenge. Looking to the left Charlotte took notice of the last door, Mrs. Hanson. She begrudgingly opened the door to the class room, meeting the stares of half the class. Dear God, she was going to die. She could feel the unflattering scarlet blush that she had been known for back home rising to her cheeks, it burned her nose and she quickly turned away from them and to the teacher. She met the eyes of an aging plump face of a middle aged woman, her light brown hair graying. Her smile seemed overly friendly and the laugh lines around her mouth grew more pronounced.

"Hello, sweetie," Her voice was soft and mellow, not like her teachers in New York who always seemed a bit too hard and cold and always looked like they wanted to strangle their students with their own jackets. "You must be my new student, Charlotte. Am I correct?"

"Yeah," Her answer came out in almost a whisper; she was going to end up running for it if they didn't stop staring at her.

"Well, class this Charlotte Walker. She'll be joining our class for the remainder of the year," The teacher smiled brightly, state the obvious please. "Sweetie, you can sit in the second row in front of Mr. Bicks and next to Mr. Randle."

Dear God, she really was going to die. She looked up slowly, wishing she hadn't put her bangs in a bump on her head, she knew that blond haired boy. The image a red mustang flew through her head, she walked slowly to her seat as the blond gave her a suspicious grin and Steve looked up at her as he was messing with a greasy swirl on his forehead. She sat down quickly looking straight ahead trying to pay attention to what the teacher was saying. She could hear the rustling of a sports jacket behind her and the leaning of a body on the desk behind her. Cool breath brushed against the back of her ear and she couldn't help but to jump in surprise.

"Well, aren't we just lucky," She could practically _hear _the grin spreading across his face, probably reaching ear to ear. "You know it wasn't very nice what you did the other day."

"Ever heard of backing off?" She asked flicking her pencil on the desk.

"You are really strange, you know that?" He told her blowing at her ear again. "A greaser pretending to be a Soc, now that's a good one."

"I'm not pretending to be anything. Now back the heck off." She hissed back gaining the attention of Steve, who was now staring at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Nah, I think I'll keep talking to you."

"Mr. Bicks I know Miss Walker is a pretty young lady but that is no reason to not to pay attention to my lesson," Mrs. Hanson interrupted loudly. The whole class turned or arched their heads back to see what she was talking about. Charlotte was sure the blood had erupted in her cheeks again and would permanently stain them red. "Now sit down properly and don't let me catch you speaking out of turn again."

The Soc leaned back down in his seat, huffing annoyed but leaving her alone. Charlotte muffled her laugh as did most of the class.

"Now back to my lesson, who can tell me what William Butler Yeats meant in his poem _Brown Penny_?"

Charlotte's freckled hand shot up before anyone else had chance, a dimpled smile on her face. English always had been her favorite class.

_The sky was empty, not even the moon wanted to be seen. Char gazed out her window tiredly, her mind was still foggy. Her lungs burned, but she couldn't feel the pain dimmer down in her chest. Everything was being clouded; nothing could make it past the fog in her mind to inform her on what happened. The walls were thin; she could hear people talking outside her room. Nothing made sense, though. All their words sound jumbled and unintelligible and cloggy, like something out of the Twilight Zone._

_She closed her eyes, opening them only to find the bright eggshell colored walls gone and the chill of the room overpowered by a sudden intensity of flaming heat. Her body was on fire, she couldn't breathe. It felt as her lungs had been inflated with smoke. She was coughing, but the smoke continued to flood in. Her eyes were closed and she could feel the heat as it licked at her feet. Something was burning; the smell reminded her of when her brother singed his eyebrows off when she was ten._

_She could hear something in the distance; it was calling out to her. She couldn't make out what it was, but she yearned to move forward and reach out for it. The calling was louder than before. She could move her feat but her eyes could not see past the red and black smoke. She was crawling now, towards the voice and in the distance past everything there something lying on the ground reaching out towards her._

_The voice was growing louder and louder. It began to echo in her head. What was happening? Why wasn't it stopping?_

"_Charlotte," the voice was clearer than any other. She could feel her body being shook. "Hey, wake up!"_

_What?_

Charlotte's eyes shot open, looking around the room confused. Two-Bit was in front of her with an overly large grin on his lips. "Two-Bit, what are you doing here?"

"What?" He asked sounding appealed and putting a hand to his chest. "I can't come visit my new buddy?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes, propping her chin up on her hand. "You do realize you're a junior, right?"

"Yeah," He said leaning back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk. "So?" Before she could respond her words were drowned out by the obnoxious ringing of the school bell. "Golly, you might think they have the right mind to change that God awful thing."

Charlotte was staring out the window again, no matter how much she tried to listen Two-Bit and Soda endlessly chatter she couldn't bring herself to. Her mind continued trail off into dangerous tides. She began to zone out again as Two-Bit made another dirty joke.

"Okay, there are three guys hikin' in the woods…"

_She was in the hospital room again. It was dead quiet_, _the only thing she could hear was the beating of her own heart and the mechanical beeping coming from her left. She blinked, everything felt so cold. She could no longer here the voices of people speaking, but now the sound of someone crying. The sobs grew and she wished they would stop. Her head hurt, she wanted to go home._

_The door was opening, it slowly creaked open and a light trail of light swarmed in as she carried her gaze over to the shadowed man._

"_H-hello," She croaked. She couldn't talk, it sounded like someone had turned on the drainer. "Br'thr'."_

"_Hello, Charlotte." His voice was warm, but she hears the hollowness in it as he spoke._

"_Wha'," She coughed again. "'Rong with you?"_

"_Nothing, sister dear, nothing at all," His voice was cracking. "There's something you should know."_

"_Wha' that?"_

"_Mom…"_

"So the first two guys meet up in the afterlife and the first guy asks the second one, 'Why did ya do that? You were almost free.' The other guy says, 'I couldn't help myself. I saw the third guy walk in with pineapples."

Charlotte tried to smile as Two-Bit finished his joke but images were still so fresh in her mind. It was going to be a long day. Two-Bit and Soda laughed loud enough to gather attention from the rest of the cafeteria, her cheeks were warm again. Gee, Two-Bit, thanks. She wanted to dig her face in her arms, Two-Bit grinned like a maniac as he continued to stare at her before his grin faltered and was replaced by a look of sudden confusion.

Charlotte looked at him furrowing her eyebrows. "What?"

Two-Bit replied by leaning fully across the top of the narrow table and prodding at her bruised cheek. "What happened to your bruise?" He was pinching her cheek, her left eye twitched from the sting.

"My father had a tantrum this morning when he saw it; you'd think someone just totaled his new car." She told him, grabbing his intruding finger. "He nearly held me down himself and covered it up."

Two-Bit wasn't looking at her anymore; he was looking at Charlotte's water bottle while rubbing his chin like some guy out of Sherlock Holmes with a mischievous glint in his eye. Charlotte's eyes widened, she knew what he was about to do.

"Two-Bit, don't you dare even-" She was cut off by the cold splash of water smacking her in the face like a harsh wave. Soda fell back in his seat laughing his ass off.

"Well, you sure do look pretty!" Two-Bit hollered.

"I'm going to strangle you!" She yelled and ran after Two-Bit as he made his getaway bumping into tables and pass biers.

When school finally ended for the day Charlotte, Soda, and Steve were all packed in Two-Bit's car, who was currently driving. Two-Bit swerved widely and someone blared their horn as they yelled profanities out their car window.

"Watch what you're doing, greasers!"

Charlotte grasped onto the car door, trying not fly out of her seat. "Uh, Two-Bit, ever heard of slowing down, you know stepping on the breaks?"

"Nope," He said swinging the steering wheel to the right, "Breaks are startin' to go out."

"What?" She screeched huddling up to passenger side door.

"Don't worry. What's the big deal anyway?"

"I don't know, I like the usage of my two legs how 'bout that one?" She yelled at him as Soda and Steve snickered from the back.

This slowly became routine. The four of them driving around town, Ponyboy and Johnny occasionally tagging along, doing whatever came to their minds. It was nice. Charlotte enjoyed herself while with the boys even despite all their over the top antics from time to time.

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><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	5. All Thanks To the Fuzz

**Down The Long Road**

_**Chapter Five: All Thanks To the Fuzz**_

It was the middle of the night and Two-Bit had dragged her to some bar, Buck's or Chuck's or something like that. The pool room was crowded, hot, loud and sweaty. The slow black and white memory of the wild parties thrown at Cheryl's house back in New York played through her mind. She remembered the swinging of hips and the fleeting touch of bare skin brushing against each other, all the blurry movements of people as they danced and laughed loudly with those drunken grins plastered across their faces.

Charlotte looked out into the crowd, a flash of greased backed golden hair catching her eye. _Was that Sodapop? _Getting up from the end stool she walked out into the mass, people bumped into and grabbed out at her. She stood tall on her toes leaning her head up over the taller reckless dancers, no luck. She pushed her way through the crowd and stumbled forward into the arms of another.

"Hiya, girlie," A deep voiced rumbled, their words ever so slurred. "Whatcha doin' here all 'lone, lost are ya?"

Charlotte looked up at the man, well a boy actually, no older than herself. His dark curly hair fell over his eyes as he leaned down to look at her, he wore a sly grin and Charlotte could see the small curved sliver line of a healed over scar right below his bottom lip. She would've called him handsome if he wasn't leering at her and didn't smell of stale beer and cigarettes.

"No. Excuse me, please." She told him stepping back before he could grab her again. She heard him groan and curse as he drunkenly stumbled forward.

"Hey, wait a moment!" He called out and Charlotte looked back to him to see him squinting his eyes at her and rubbing his curled covered head as if he was trying to remember something. For a moment if she let herself believe it, he almost looked like her brother. "You…you're that one broad. Shay-She…"

"Charlotte," She provided.

"Yeah, tha's the one! I've 'post to be lookin' for ya." She winced at his grammar; years of being strictly taught by her mother would do that someone. "Two-Bitch's been lookin' for ya."

She raised a brow at the name, "I see you've been doing such a great job."

The boy's cheeks tinged red and he fiddled with his belt loops. "Yeah, Two-Bitch's this way, come on." He said pointing back into the crowd from where he had come from. Against any better judgment that was screaming in her head telling her not to go off with some stranger, she went along with him. He kept a hand on her waist and mostly pushed their way through all the packed areas with little to no room until they came to a stop at a closed door at the end of one of the halls.

The curly haired boy swung the door open and light flooded into the dimly lit hallway, looking into the brightly lit room Charlotte could see the back heads of people sitting at a round table with smoke twirling and floating above their heads. The people laughed loudly and the distinct sound of chips flying and clattering together filled the room. In the corner she could see a pair of feet in high strappy blue heels bobbing up and down in the air to the sound of Elvis playing in the background. When the boy pushed her fully into view the crowed table either looked back or just raised a brow at the two. Two-Bit shot out of his seat, the bear in his hands bubbling over and running down his hand and arm as he almost seemed to jump over the table to her.

"Char," He's grinning now and Charlotte suddenly feels like popping him in the mouth. "Where've you been?"

His speech is even more slurred than the curly heads. Charlotte stopped herself from rolling her eyes, she was going to have to drive tonight, and that is if he hasn't lost the keys yet. "I don't know. First you drag me to a party in the middle of the night and then you ditch me."

"Aw, don't be mad. Here have a drink!" He shoves it against her mouth and it clanks against her teeth before the bitter liquid makes its way down her throat. She nearly chokes. "Come on! Take a seat, playin' poker and if I do say I'm pretty sure I'm winnin'!"

Another guy snorts loudly and crackles out a laugh. "Yeah right, Two-Bit, you couldn't be losin' any more than King Hill can at a football game!"

Two-Bit drags Charlotte along to the table, there's no more chairs, so she begrudgingly sits in his offered lap. A blush creeps up her neck and spreads to her ears, so she looks down at the playing table trying to avoid any of the questioning stares. They continue playing and somehow Two-Bit manages to con twenty bucks off her, of course him being Two-Bit, he manages to lose it in the next five minutes.

"So Charlotte," The girl from the corner calls as she gets up and wraps her arms around the male who had spoken earlier shoulders, "Whatcha doin' in little ol' Tulsa? Aren't from the big city?"

The hand that belongs to Two-Bit, which is currently resting on Charlotte's hip tightens considerably, she can almost feel his nails picking through her jeans. She looks over at him and sees the tightening of his jaw and the slight glare in his eyes. Looking back at the girl she takes in her appearance. Her hair is a shade of somewhat a dark blond, almost leaning to a light brown and her eyes are a cold brown that remind Charlotte of frozen dirt, a beauty mark is on the upper left corner of the mouth and a sly grin wears her face. Charlotte's eyes almost widen in surprise as she realizes who she is, but the look on Two-Bit's face stops her in her tracks.

"Yeah," She downs the rest of the beer in her hands. "I'm only here by my father's doing. Daddy dearest seems to think New York isn't the right place to raise a young lady, but actually he only came here for the money. A whole new firm is about to open up, a little down the road."

"Charlotte shut it!" Two-bit hisses at her, but she merely looks down at him and sends him a questioning look.

The sly grin widens and there is a seemingly innocent glint in her eyes. "Really now, I guess that means you come from some money, huh?"

The table is hushed into a quiet tone and everyone seems to be looking between the two of them. "I 'pose so. Why?"

"Oh, just wonderin'," She laughs dully and a bad feeling shifts in the pits of Charlotte's stomach. The girl's voice seems to sharpen in pitch and for a second she sounds like an immature child. "I guess that means you live in the West side, huh?"

"You brought some fucking Soc to Buck's, Two-Bit?"

It's the curly haired guy that brought her in who says it. Charlotte looks toward him for a moment, his face is in a nasty sneer and his cheeks are becoming blotchy with the red and for the first time Charlotte realizes why Two-Bit told her shut it. Smoothly sliding Charlotte off his lap Two-Bit rises slowly, giving the boy a bitter grin, his fist dangerously shaking at his side and the other hand grabbing his beer bottle before chugging down the rest a bead of brown liquid running down his chin and at that moment everyone in the brightly lit room prepares for a fight to breakout.

"I'd watch yer mouth if I were you, Curly."

"It's not my fault you brought a Soc here." The boys' catlike features tighten into a glare and Two-Bit moves as if he's about to pounce.

"She ain't no Soc."

Curly waves over at Charlotte and then a rough hand is yanking her backwards, scaring a yelp out of her before she instinctively draws her elbow back into the person's gut. Two-Bit slams the glass bottle against the poker table breaking the end into deadly sharp points and edges ready to meet the flesh of something breathing. He slams himself at Charlotte's grabber and she ends up hitting the ground as he punches the caught off guard attacker. Blood is running down the side of the man's face by the time someone comes to their senses and helps get Two-Bit off.

"Two-Bit, you want a fight? Ya got one." Curly's face is covered in velvet red and the curly hair on his head seems to be standing straight up.

It only takes two minutes for everyone to be in the bar and poolroom, the pool tables and chairs are pushed back out of the way and everyone is crowded into a circle. Charlotte grabs onto the sleeve Two-Bit's leather jacket, stopping him from completely entering the area, her better judgment finally seems to be kicking in.

"Stop, Two-Bit, please." She's pleading now and for a moment she feels worried and scared. She's in a place she's never been before and surrounded by people she doesn't know. If Two-Bit lost and something happened to him it would be on her and who could tell what would happen. The anticipation sinks in and Charlotte wishes that they were back at Soda's house, wishing that she hadn't taken up Two-Bit's offer.

"It'll be a'right." He grins and playfully knocks his forehead against hers but she knows he is too drunk to stop and that his ego is a little too cocky to give up. He wipes away the trail of drying blood dripping from her left nostril from where she smacked herself in the nose when she fell to the ground.

_So the fight begins. _It's the first thing that pops into her mind as she reluctantly lets Two-Bit go.

Charlotte can remember all the street brawls and rumbles that took place in the bad side of town, the thing that always stood out the most was how bloody everyone got. The police hardly ever came, so if someone wasn't careful they could've easily been killed dead but the fights were hardly ever organized and people just joined in on whichever side they wanted to fight. Once when she was barley fourteen she had followed one of her friends to Rumble Alley and nearly had her left shin shattered to bits. But now the turf was different and this time she wasn't sure where to begin.

Two-Bit threw the first punch and managed to sock Curly in the mouth. A crack is heard and Curly spits out what looks to be part of a tooth. The crowd is growing louder in their drunken stupors and Charlotte can no longer hears the words being spoken between the two boys, only the moving of their lips are left for her to decipher. Curly's face morphs with a menacing snarl and he lunges forward, head butting Two-Bit in the gut, until they both slam into the hard wooden floor. Two-Bit has his right leg around Curly's waist and manages to flip them over and then repeatedly begins to slam his fist into the other boys jaw. The roaring of the crowd is way too loud and the loud playing music suddenly cancels out, a shuffling of a dozen feet comes from near the front door and as the crowd begins to move apart two shadowed figures are standing in the dull light. One is a couple inches shorter than the other and man besides him looks mighty pissed as he begins yelling loud and clear.

"What the fuck is going on!" He rips Two-Bit of Curly and slams him back onto the floor. "Two-Bit you know the rules, no fighting in the bar!"

The other man steps closer into the light and the sharp face of Dallas Winston is shifting glances between Two-Bit and Charlotte. Everything is quiet and tense and for once since the breakout of the fight the blaring of sirens is herd coming closer and closer. It takes a matter of three seconds for the whole room to begin panicking and scrambling for an exit. The rushing of bodies sends Charlotte tumbling to the ground. She cries out as someone steps on her outstretched hand. An arm is around her waist and heaves her up. Dallas Winston has ahold of her along with Two-Bit held tightly in his other arm. Two-Bit looks to be passed out but Dallas still somehow manages to push them both up towards the stairs.

It's quiet for a short moment before the yells of several people echo up the stairs.

"Police, no one move!"

All three of them are huddled in a side closet nestled between the bathroom door and the hallway corner wall. Charlotte can feel the tension pulsing throughout her body as she leans father away from the door and closer to Two-Bit's passed out form. Dallas is still calm, even as a pair of feet jogs upstairs and nears closer to the door. It's dark in the hallway and no light shines through the crack and Charlotte now knows why Dallas busted the two bulbs in the hall. The cop keeps trying to flip on the lights but eventually gives up. The footsteps are beginning to walk away and just as Charlotte begins to relase the breath she had been holding, Two-Bit snores.

"Alright, I know you're out here!" The man yells in his gravelly voice. "Come out now, with your hands up!"

The three do nothing and sit in the burning silence.

"Now, God damn it! Don't make me use my gun!" Charlotte stiffens and curls deeper into the ball she set herself in.

It takes a moment for her to notice that Dallas had gotten up and she reaches up blindly for his arm and instead grabs his rough hand. She grips it tightly when she hears his other hand on the door knob. He slips his fingers from her grip and whispers something in the darkness before he opens the door and steps out.

"Alright, look fuzz, I'm right here." His voice still remains calm, relaxed and almost sarcastic.

"Dallas Winston, I should have known." The cop seems smug with the thought of bringing Dallas in, almost as if it was a great honor among cops. "Get over here, hood."

As their footsteps descend down the stairs and all becomes quiet again, Charlotte sits frozen, Dallas's words still playing through her head.

"_Stay put. Get out after the fuzz is gone and steer clear of here for a while."_

She holds Two-Bit's prone form in her arms tightly, waiting for the chance to leave, all the while thinking that maybe Dallas Winston isn't such a bad guy after all.


	6. Long Walks

**A/N: I know it's been quite a while since I've updated this story but life does indeed get in the way and you forget about things you love, like writing this story. I don't know if any of my original readers are still reading this but just in case you are I've just wanted y'all to know that I have made a few changes to the overall story. the changes are mostly minor like a few details and the main characters name. Feel free to re-read those first few chapters, let me know if anything needs to be fixed and I will be pleased to do so. I really do hope to finish this story. The first time I reread it for the first time since I last updated it I was stuck with inspiration and I am still surprised about how easy it was to find my voice again. **

**Please review, let me know what you think or just leave some CC or if anything needs to be fix. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Long Walks<strong>

She isn't too sure on how long they're in that hall closet but by the time the police haul Dallas off to the police station and all the cops are gone from Buck's, both she and Two-Bit are fast asleep. Charlotte wakes up with a crook in her neck, Two-Bit is cradled in her lap and she has a mouthful of his hair. Char coughs lightly as she pops her neck and jostles Two-Bit awake. It takes quite a bit of shoving to actually wake him from his drunken slumber but when he finally lifts his head and meets her eyes, the nights events seem to come flooding right back to him.

Two-Bit shoots up from his spot on her lap and quickly looks around small darkened closet space, clearly looking for any sign of a fight, more specifically Curly. After he settles down she shushes him before he can speak, wanting to be careful.

"What the hell happened?" He rubs gingerly at bruises marking his face.

"The fuzz came after your fight with Curly. Dallas managed to shove the both of us in this closet before he got hauled off himself." She frowns, rubbing at her head. Her hand pulls through tangles making her wince. "I guess I fell asleep while waiting for them to leave."

Two-Bit doesn't have his trademark grin that she's grown accustomed to seeing. He stands up and pokes his head out the door to see if the coast is clear. "We better get going then. I don't want to be here in case the next round shows up, or Buck in this case."

He guides them both through the house, both quiet as can be except for the occasional cringe worthy creaking of a floor board. When they outside the sun is blinding but the roads are clear. Everyone must be stuck in bed with Friday night hangovers, she thinks as they walk over to wear Two-Bit had parked his car only to find a missing car and empty parking space.

"Dammit! Those bastards towed off my car." He kicks at the gravel frustrated and hung-over. He sighs, runs his fingers through his messy hair and meets her eyes. "I guess we're gonna have to walk, sweets."

Charlotte nods and follows his lead. They're heading back towards the Curtis' house if her sense of direction and memory is correct. "What are we going to do about Dallas? We can't just leave him in jail."

Two=bit just waves his hand and shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "This isn't Dal's first trip to the cooler. He knows what he's doing."

"But isn't there something we can do?" She's starting to feel guilty. She shouldn't have let Dallas go. She shouldn't have opened her big mouth in the first place last night anyway. She knew that not all greasers were as excepting of her background and other classes like they had been back in New York but this wasn't any time to start feeling sorry for herself.

"Unless you're gonna pay his bail to get him out, there isn't much we can do, Char. Really, don't worry about Dally. He wasn't drinking last night so they don't really have much to stick him with anyway."

Charlotte frowns before letting the conversation drop. "Thanks, by the way. You know, for sticking up for me in there last night."

Two-Bit coughs almost awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck almost bashfully. "My pleasure, Char."

His grin makes a return.

It's a long walk back to the Curtis' house. Even with a cloudless sky and bright morning sun shining down upon them there's still a chill in the air that leaves the both of them slightly hunched over with their hands stuffed in their pockets. Charlotte feels less than spectacular as they walk down the street, a few cars pass them by, and an obnoxious boy leans out the passenger's side of one car and yells something along the lines of how they must've had a pretty good time before the car speeds off. Two-Bit steps closer to her and slings his arm over her shoulders as the next car passes.

The Curtis house is obviously quite the looker compared to the other houses in the neighborhood. Its paint is chipping and there are few shingles that need to be redone but it is mostly kept up with. It's a nice house. It doesn't look like her house at all. Despite its position in the neighborhood it still manages to stand out among the rest, a warm and open aura seems to roll off of it. Her house may be up to date, freshly painted and surrounded by white picket fence but it still didn't seem to have the same appeal as this old, worn down home did.

Just as she was about to knock Two-Bit just went ahead and flung open the door and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Honey, I'm home!"

"You didn't knock?" She asks bewildered.

"Why would I?"

Charlotte just shakes her head and laughs. "Never mind."

The Curtis brothers are all gathered in the kitchen, as was Steve who was currently stuffing his face with what looked like chocolate cake and washing it down with a glass of chocolate milk as well. "Hey, what happened to you two last night? After the fuzz came y'all just up and vanished and no one knew where you went."

Two-Bit pulls out a chair and props up his feet on the table until Darry swats at them with a rolled up newspaper. "Curly Sheppard started some shit last night, picked a fight and then someone called the fuzz. Dally shoved us in the closet upstairs but they still managed to haul him in."

Soda looks up from his eggs and runs a hand through his still damp hair. "Wait, did you two stay in a closet as Buck's all night?"

"Unfortunately," Charlotte grumbles, leaning against the kitchen counter alongside Steve. "Then we had the pleasure of walking all the way here because the cops towed every car left in the lot after everyone cleared out."

"Sounds like a rough night," Darry tells them as he stands up from the table to set his dishes in the sink. There's a small, humorous smile playing on his lips. "Two-Bit use the phone to call down to see if your car is at Jerry's lot. He might just let you have it back if you say please."

"Yeah right, man." Two-Bit scoff at the thought.

Darry pulls on an old, beat up work jacket that reads 'Tusla's Finest Construction' on its tag. He pats Ponyboy on his head on his way out before grabbing his keys. "Pony, it's your turn to do the dishes. I'll see you kids later."

After Darry leaves Soda stands up from the table, leaving to get two more plates. "You guys hungry?" He doesn't bother waiting for an answer before piling eggs and toast onto the plates.

Charlotte takes both plates from him, setting one with less down in front of Two-Bit and then sitting down herself. Steve is laughing wildly as he pokes at Two-Bit's bruise covered face, mocking him as he goes on.

"Wow, Curly sure did a number on you, didn't he Two-Bit? What you'd say that got him so pissed off?"

Two-bit slapped Steve's hand away and grumbled into his bite of eggs. "I didn't say anything. Some broad started shit and Curly got involved."

"You got in a fight over a girl?" Soda asked clearly confused.

"Not over the chick you're thinking of. The broad started running her mouth tryin' to get Charlotte ganged up on. It just so happens that Curly was there to hear it and you know how he gets when he's been drinking all night."

Charlotte stared into her eggs. She could feel the boy's eyes on her as he spoke. "Apparently living on the end of West Side still means something here. In New York is wasn't as such a big deal."

Which was true to an extent. Unless you lived up in the rich part of the city where if you so much as walked the street looking like a greaser you'd get looked down upon like you were trash and no store would service you. In New York Charlotte's family was only considered lower middle class but here the dollar went farther and her ranking in society went up with it, not that she cared much. Back home she sit with greasers and socs alike, depending on the circumstances. Greasers would come to her home to be patched up or even just for a place to sleep or something to eat. Her mother always welcomed them in with open arms.

"You're gonna find a lot of things aren't the same down here, Char."

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that. " Charlotte rubbed at her eyes, trying to rub the sleep out. "I gotta get home guys. My dad is going to kill me."

"We'll drop you off. Me and Steve gotta out anyway, it be on the way." Soda offers pulling his cap and putting his own dishes in the sink. "See you later, Ponyboy."


End file.
